


And I wish

by SockOwl



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A broken nose, Background Mike Hanlon/OC, But whatever, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of alcohol, Modern Setting, None explicit drunkenness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, They're the age of 19 here, Ya know I'm gonna be honest it's not my best work, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-26 05:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SockOwl/pseuds/SockOwl
Summary: The one thing Stan Uris wanted more than anything was Richie Tozier.





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey I am here again but this time with a chaptered Stozier fic.

Stan truly felt like a lovesick idiot. No, wait. Correction; he _was_ a lovesick idiot.

The lovesick idiot part wasn’t really a problem in itself, it was actually a quite wonderful feeling. No, the real problem was that he didn’t even know the boy of his affections. They had been in the same schools for almost his whole life, and he knew his name, but other than that there wasn’t much. Now, in college they had some classes together. But Stan was quite sure this boy didn’t even know he existed despite their several years of… coexistence.

Stan had had a hard time coming to terms with his sexuality. He had thought his parents would be angry even though they weren’t as strict Jews as some others in their community. When he was fifteen they had found out Mike had met his first girlfriend, and naturally light teasing had commenced. Girls must be falling over themselves over their handsome son, right? What about that pretty one from the Jewish Community Youth Group he attended on tuesdays? Didn’t she make him feel something? By the time dinner was over Stan was crying.

Later that night, when he had mustered up the courage to explain why he was upset, his mother hugged him tightly and told him she would love him no matter what. His father had stepped out for a minute. For a breather, he had said. When he came back he too had tears in his eyes. He had kissed to top of his son’s head, saying it came as a big surprise, but he would come around to it eventually. He had come around, and occasionally he asked if Stan had met any cute boys. Cue embarrassed blushing and telling his father to please shut up.

A year later he had come out to Mike, because he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it but there was no one else he trusted. Mike had shrugged, saying he suspected it already and was glad Stan felt he could tell him. Stan had walked home that evening with light steps and a big smile on his face.

Now, when he was nineteen and the only romantic encounter he had had was kissing a boy from PE behind the school building one evening he had realised he very much wanted to find out what this whole relationship thing was about. So, per usual, his heart decided he should want the most unavailable person in a hundred mile radius. That’s just how things worked, right? So therefore, Stan was currently pining after one Richard Tozier.

\--------

“You know I could just ask him for you, right?”, Mike said, giving Stan an amused look. They were currently in the library, pretending to study.

“No! No, absolutely _not_!”, he hissed. “You can’t just ask someone if they’re gay.”

“Why not?”, Mike frowned. “I thought it was better asking than just assuming?”

“Well… You have a point. But that isn’t _my_ point. It’s too suspicious.”

“Stan, I’m gonna be brutally honest with you now. If this guy hasn’t eyed you up and down in the last ten years, he won’t now, just because I ask him if he has a boyfriend.”

“But what if he thinks you’re hitting on him?”

“He won’t. He knows I have a girlfriend.”

“How do you know him? Have you talked?”, Stan squinted slightly at his friend, wondering just when Mike had had the time to share this information with his crush.

“Don’t be jealous, Stan. We worked together on a project. And I can tell you, if you don’t get with him it won’t be a big loss. He’s annoying.”, Mike had a flat look on his face that did nothing to ease the loneliness residing in Stan’s heart.

\--------

Stan spread his jacket on the grass to sit on, making himself comfortable. He had his bird book in his bag and his binoculars in one hand. Time for some quality birdwatching. Just what he needed after a long school day. It was a rather nice spot, one which he came to quite often. Trees, grass, a bird bath set up by some county environmentalist. It was also conveniently close to an open field where a group of friends were currently playing soccer. Stan wasn’t a big fan of ball sports, but it was nice having something else to rest his strained eyes on when they needed a rest from the binoculars.

He pulled out his bird book, a small smile playing on his lips. He sifted through it for a moment before putting the binoculars to his face. A yellow-rumped warbler was squatting on a branch in the closest tree, soon joined by a buddy of the same species. Robins and sparrows ventured back and forth between treetops. Nothing uncommon. At one point two mallards waddled by on a path toward the bird bath.

“Slow day.”, Stan mumbled to himself, putting his binoculars down and picking up his book instead. He thumbed through it, looking at the birds he had marked down as seen, and the ones he had yet to spot. He thought of his father, who almost always joined him for this when he was a child, and his mother, who always asked what new birds they had spotted that day. He missed his parents terribly sometimes, even though they lived only an hour away.

Alarmed shouting penetrated his deep thoughts and he looked up, seeing someone come running his way. He had the time to frown before he was knocked backwards by something striking his face with great force. Blinding pain spread from his nose and outward, followed by a warm wetness.


	2. Dreaming

Stan groaned, opening his eyes and finding himself… not where he expected to be. He was obviously at the hospital, the stark white walls and and the nurse walking by giving that much away. His face hurt terribly, which was alarming. But the one thing he found even more alarming was that Richie Tozier was staring down at him.

“Hey, man. I'm Richie. You okay?”, he said, worry playing on his face. “Shit, I had to take you to the hospital, you were knocked out cold.”

“What happened?”, Stan mumbled, his nose feeling stuffed and thick.

“You took a soccer ball to the face. Your nose is broken. Hold on, I’m gonna get a nurse.”, Richie shuffled out of the room, leaving a dazed and pain stricken Stan in his wake.

\-------

Stan stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like Rudolph the Reindeer. Except his nose was purple and blue instead of red. The bruising had spread around his left eye and down onto his cheek. He looked like he had taken the beating of all beatings. From a soccer ball.

“I’ve got your stuff in my car.”, Richie said when he stepped out of the bathroom. The nurse had discharged Stan now that he was awake and by his full senses. He had a light headache, but no dizziness, so they didn’t suspect a concussion. The bruising would heal with time, as would the bone in his nose.

“Thanks.”, Stan trailed after the other boy through the hospital, staring at his back and wondering how he hadn’t seen him at the field.

“I can give you a ride home if you want? I wouldn’t be too high on walking if I were you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call my friend.”, Stan shook his head, taking his bag when Richie pulled it of his car and digging through it for his phone. “Thanks for staying with me, you can go now.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”, Richie was frowning slightly, Stan was quick to look away from the face of his dreams.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You can go.”, he dismissed Richie again, who nodded hesitantly.

“Hey, what’s your name?”, he asked, one foot in the car.

“Stan.”

“Well, Stan, since sir Tozier is no longer in your service he’s off to save other damsels in distress. Have a fair evening.”, he shot of a giant grin, giving Stan a two finger salute before fully entering his car and driving off.

Stan waved weakly after him, dialling Mike’s number and pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hi, it’s me. Could you pick me up at the hospital? I’m fine, I’ll explain later.”

\-------

“So you’re telling me, loverboy offered you a ride, and you didn’t accept?”, Mike had a short hysteric burst when he saw Stan’s face, but now he was more concerned about Stan ruining his chances.

“I was being polite.”

“Stan, you were being stupid. _He_ was being polite.”

“God, I should’ve just taken his offer.”, Stan sighed in frustration.

“But don’t fret, as your good friend I am here to give you a second chance.”, Mike smiled widely. “It was actually gonna be your first chance, but you blew that all by yourself.”

“Shut up.”, Stan grumbled, but his interest was caught. “What are you talking about?”

“You know Eddie Kaspbrak, right?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, his friend Beverly is having a huge party next weekend. He asked me to come, said I could bring my girlfriend and roommate. Which is you, Stan. A little bird also whispered in my ear that this Beverly is very good friends with one Richie Tozier, which means he’s basically a honorary guest there. Which, _in turn_ , means there’s basically a one hundred and ten percent chance he’ll be there.”, Mike patted Stan’s shoulder. “No need to thank me.”

\-------

So, the week leading up to the party went too fast. Stan’s nose still hurt, but the bruising was more red and yellow now rather than purple and black. He honestly didn’t know what he considered worse. Mike’s girlfriend, Camilla, was very gently dabbing concealer on his face with a soft sponge.

“Don’t worry, Stan. You’re gonna get your man.”, she smiled, dusting some powder on his face with a brush.

“Did Mike tell you?”, he pouted.

“We have a very strong, no secrets kind of relationship. I know some details.”, she offered, smirking. Stan sighed. He had absolutely nothing against Camilla, she was one of the nicest persons he had ever met. Mike was whipped.

“Are you ready?”, she asked a few minutes later. “Your face looks fine now.”

“I’m ready. And thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The walk to Beverly’s apartment proved to be rather short. Mike’s fingers were twined with Camilla’s, and they looked like a picture perfect couple. Stan walked a step behind them, fiddling with his phone and checking his appearance again and again in the front camera.

“Stop that, you look fine.”, Mike said when he saw what he was doing. “Just have fun, alright? Eddie is nice, you should hang with him.”

“Alright.”, Stan muttered, stuffing his phone in his pocket and stepping inside after the others.

Eddie was the first to greet them, already drunk, pushing cups of unidentified liquid into their hands. Then, he linked his arm with Stan’s and dragged him off into the house.

\-------

Turns out drinking with Eddie Kaspbrak was worse than running a marathon unprepared. Stan had always thought Eddie was nice, with a healthy dose of attitude, and maybe a weird fixation with his asthmatic problems. Now, he was standing on top of a table, shouting lyrics to a song Stan had never heard. He had lost track of Mike an hour ago, but he was doing quite fine in the company of this tiny ball of uncontrolled energy.

“Stan, you came!”, a long arm wrapped around him from behind as a voice slurred in his ear. “I see my little spitfire has taken you under his wings.”

Stan whirled around, almost spilling his drink all over Richie.

“I had to use all of my social contacts to find out who could get you to come. I didn’t know anyone who could know you, but now I know I had only needed to talk to Mike. What a guy, I had no idea.”

“No idea about what?”

“Not sure. I’m drunk. Are you drunk?”, Richie looked down into his cup.

“Not yet.”

“I can fix that, as Eddie is clearly preoccupied.”, Richie let out a laugh, and when Stan looked he saw Eddie disappearing into the crowd, hands linked with a tall guy he didn’t recognise.

\-------

“You nose looks better.”

After being dragged around the party and introduced to almost everyone Richie had made them step outside. He had offered Stan a cigarette, which he politely declined. He wasn’t drunk enough yet for that, though he was well on his way there. The world swam cosily around the edges and his body felt heavy and relaxed in a good way.

“Thanks, it’s makeup. I am Rudolph in disguise tonight.”, Stan giggled at Richie’s surprised stare.

“Oh. So either you’re really talented with makeup or you have a girlfriend.”, Richie sat down on a bench by the walkway.

“Neither. It was Camilla.”, Stan said, fiddling with his cup and joining him on the bench.

“Mike’s girlfriend, right?”, Richie asked, tapping ashes off his cigarette.

Stan knocked back the last of vodka or whatever there was inside his cup, wincing at the burn in his throat. There was something about the way Richie was questioning him that made him nervous, in a good way. He shuffled closer and Richie stretched with a grin on his face, his arm landing conveniently around Stan’s shoulders.

“So, how come I’ve never seen you around here before?”

\-------

“Here, let me put some necessary information in that device of yours.”, Richie took his phone, tapping on it for a while before giving it back. Stan was drunker than he had planned, leaning heavily onto Richie and at one point he was sure he had petted the other's hair in a very fascinated fashion.

“Richie Tozier.”, Stan read out loud, staring at the phone number. “You gave me your number.”

“Of course, I like you. We should hang out sometime.”, Richie smiled widely, one hand resting on Stan’s side.

“You’d want that?”, Stan was shocked. All he’d managed tonight was getting drunk as hell. He sent an empty text to Richie, thinking he should have his number too. That’s how this was supposed to work, right? Then he remembered something Richie had said earlier. "You wanted me to come to this party?"

"Well, yeah. I can't just ruin someone's face without checking up on them.", Richie replied to his breathless question, grinning a little. "But I can see you're doing just fine."

"I'm getting there.", Stan leaned closer. He could've sworn Richie was doing the same, but then he was spun around and moved towards the door with the other's arm around his waist.

“Yep. Come on now, I’ll walk you home. If you can find it in your state, that is…”


	3. Burning

_“Just text him, Stanley.”_

Stan fiddled with his phone, willing him to just send that stupid text. It had been two weeks since he earned the achievement Get Hot Guy’s Number. Needless to say, Richie hadn’t contacted him even once, but obviously he hadn’t contacted him either.

 **Stan** \- _Hey_

Stan winced slightly. Well, that was stupid. He pocketed his phone. At least he’d reached out now, he couldn’t wait to not get a reply. Most of all he wished he could go back to sleep for a year or so and forget his broken nose and that stupid, gorgeous young man who gave him heart palpitations.

\-------

Stan titled the page in his notebook neatly. He liked the way it looked. All of his books were in pristine condition, some of them even wrapped in plastic to keep them from getting stained and chipped.

“Stan?”

He looked up, seeing Eddie Kaspbrak make his way over.

“Oh hi, Eddie.”, Stan smiled. “I didn’t know you took this class too.”

“You do now. Can I sit here?”, he asked, not really waiting for an answer before putting his bag down and shrugging off his jacket. “So, I’m sorry I ditched you at the party. I got caught up with my boyfriend.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I figured. Richie said you hung out with him for the rest of the night.”

Stan looked away for a moment. “So you’re friends?”

“We hang out sometimes. Me, Bill, Beverly and him.”, Eddie shrugged a little before continuing. “Bill is my boyfriend and they’re roommates. Richie hasn’t replied to your texts, has he?”

“What texts?”, it was a useless cover, and Eddie saw through it immediately. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed together.

“I’ll give him a kick later. Just be careful with him, okay? He’s not always as nice as he likes to pose as.”, Eddie’s fingers brushed his elbow in a comforting gesture and Stan nodded, unsure what to make of his words.

\-------

“Why didn’t you reply when Stan texted you?”, Eddie snapped when he stepped into the dormroom Richie shared with his boyfriend Bill. Said boyfriend trailed in after him, wrapping one arm around his waist.

“All it said was hey.”, Richie gaped a little. “How did you know he texted me?”

“Because I met him today and I am smart enough to make my own conclusions.”

“Okay, okay, Eds. I’ll text him back, jeez.”, Richie picked up his phone, tapping on it for a few moments. “Can I invite him to movie night?”

“W-We haven’t st-stopped you before. Just be nice with this one.”, when Bill had grown up, he had had a terrible stutter. Nowadays only some traces were left on it, he had worked hard during high school to overcome it. Eddie was so proud he could burst, though he only told Bill that in private.

"I'm always nice."

"You know what I mean.", Bill's eyes were hard, and Richie frowned.

\-------

 **Richie Tozier** - _Stan my man!! So sorry for the late reply. How’s the nose?_

 **Stan** \- _Hi, Richie. My nose is a lot better, thanks._

 **Richie Tozier** \- _Nice!! So, I wanted to invite you too movie night with me and my friends. How about that? Friday night, 7pm._

“Eddie must’ve given him one hell of a kick.”, Stan muttered, typing back his reply which accepted the invitation. He was sent an address, and he sent back a thumbs up emoji. Like a proper young adult who had his shit together.

“I don’t know, Stan. He’s giving me bad vibes.”, Mike looked thoughtful.

“You said he was nice.”

“I have said no such thing.”, he laughed a little. “Don’t try that with me. But seriously, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know, Mike. I appreciate your consideration.”, Stan sighed. “I just… I really like him.”

“You barely know him. Just be careful, okay?”

“Why are both you and Eddie saying that?”, Stan frowned.

“Maybe you should listen to us then.”, Mike clapped on hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I have no doubt you can take care of yourself, but I worry anyway.”

\-------

Stan folded his shirts neatly, picking lint of one blue pullover. It was slow work, but gave his mind something to focus on without having to actually think about it. Lately he'd been terribly busy with school, and just an inkling of more stress would cause the mental breakdown of the year.

His mind wandered to Eddie, who had come to join him for random activities more often than not lately. Stan didn't mind at all, the boy was a good friend and God knew those didn't grow on trees. Anyhow, Eddie had rather loudly proclaimed that he needed to get drunk this weekend, before his brain could collapse from lack of fun. Made no sense, Stan thought, but he hadn't protested. Mostly because getting drunk meant Richie would be there. See, getting to know Richie had done nothing to appease his lingering crush. If anything, it had fanned the small campfire and now it was burning the whole forest. 

His shirts were now folded and he moved on to his pants. He wondered briefly if maybe he should actually buy a pair of jeans to add to his wardrobe of old-man-pants as Mike liked to fondly call them. Maybe he could ask Eddie to bring Beverly on a shopping trip with him. She was a fashion addict after all.

Stan finished folding all his clean laundry, putting the clothes on their shelves in the closet and shutting the door. Maybe they should go shopping then get drunk. He texted Eddie. All he got for reply was an obnoxious amount of exclamation marks, he guessed it indicated Eddie was in.

\-------

“Yeah, no, these won’t do.”, Beverly giggled. “I’ll pick something for you.”

“But-”

“I’ll pick something!”, she interrupted before Stan could say anything. “Just try it on, please?”

“Okay, fine.”, Stan sighed, trying to force back a smile but failing. Beverly laughed, traipsing away and plucking shirts from a rack.

Stan lingered by the dressing rooms, Eddie standing close by with his phone in his face.

“How long have you and Bill been together?”, he asked after a minute.

“Almost three years now.”

“That’s a long time.”

Eddie just smiled and shrugged.

“Okay, Stan!”, Beverly came jogging back, a whole pile of clothes in her arms.

“I’m trying on all of this?”, he let out a huff of breath as she dumped the clothes in his arms.

“Uh-huh.”, she nodded excitedly, red curls flying around her face. “You have to come out here and show us each garment.”

He gave her a doubtful look, drawing the curtain to the tiny space full of mirrors and began sifting through the clothes.

“Beverly, can I talk to you for a second?”, Eddie asked softly, tugging on her arm and taking a few steps back from the dressing room Stan was currently in.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I think Stan likes Richie.”, he bit his lip, releasing her arm and running his hand through his hair.

“Oh. Oh no.”, her eyes widened. They shared a look of equal alarm. “Is Richie-”

“He’s definitely up for it. I’ve seen the way he looks at Stan.”

“But Stan’s is so nice.”, Beverly looked down at her feet.

“I know…”

“Are you talking about me?”

Both Eddie and Beverly turned towards the dressing room that Stan had just stepped out of. He did a little spin and Beverly gasped, Eddie turned beet red.

“Okay, that looks really fucking good on you.”, he muttered, turning away. “You should buy those jeans.”


	4. Falling

“Damn, Stanley.”, Bill whistled. “Lookin’ good tonight.”

Eddie sputtered for a moment, then realised he had reacted basically the same. Bill could get a pass this time.

“He does, doesn’t he?”, Beverly laughed, one arm linked with Stan’s proudly. “I dressed him.”

“Well, you did a great job.”, Eddie said with a resolute nod. “Now can we please stop admiring his ass.”

“Nu-uh.”, Richie’s voice was heard from behind them. He must've just walked in, not bothering with knocking. “I’m not done, I just arrived. _Damn_.”

Beverly hesitated, looking from Stan to Richie to Eddie, who was already looking at her. Stan had blushed furiously in a split second, she was surprised his face hadn’t actually exploded.

“Richie, come mix drinks with me in the kitchen.”, she released Stan’s arm and grabbed Richie’s, pulling him with her.

“What’s the hurry, miss Marsh?”, he chuckled, falling silent when she whirled around to glare daggers at him. “Wow, what did I do?”

“Nothing. Not yet.”, she hissed. “And I don’t want you to do anything either.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Stan. We like him. We want to be friends with him. We want to _stay_ friends with him. So please, for the love of god, don’t ruin this for us.”

Richie ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, a stale grin on his face. He moved to the counter, pulling out a mug from the cupboard and grabbing the nearest bottle with alcohol in it.

“Still not sure what it is you’re talking about.”, he shrugged again as he poured the liquid until it was almost touching the rim.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you like Stan.”

“I don’t _like_ him.”

“Fine, you think he’s a pretty piece of meat you can just chew on for a minute then spit out, like the fucking dog you are.”, she spat, and Richie was taken aback by her sudden anger.

“You know, a dog would probably eat the meat.”

“You’re unbelievable!”, she poured a cup of her own.

“You think he can’t take care of himself? You think he can’t handle me?”

“I know he can’t, because he genuinely likes you. He doesn’t know you like the rest of us do.”

“No, Beverly, he obviously doesn’t. Now will you please tell me what this is really about? Because if it’s just about me thinking he’s attractive, I don’t see the fucking problem. So why are both you, Eddie and Bill hounding me for something I haven’t even done?”

“This is about you being incapable of keeping a relationship even to save your own life. You just fuck people over because of some… some sick kink you have or something! Do you enjoy breaking hearts?! You did it to Evan, you did it to Laura, you did it to _Eddie_. It’s a wonder he’s still your friend. You never even apologised or told him why! So please, just don’t do it to Stan. I’m begging you.”, she was slightly out of breath, her hands winded in her hair and a frantic look on her face.

Richie stared at her, swallowing around the lump forming in his throat. He took a sip from his mug, looking away. Through the doorway he saw Stan and Eddie laughing about something. He looked back at Beverly.

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Because I _know_ you didn’t want Stan to come to that first party just because you felt sorry for breaking his nose with a damn soccer ball.”

“I said I won’t. You keep your stupid little friend. Not like I want to fuck someone who wears _suit pants_ ninety nine percent of the time anyway.”, he leaned down, snarling in her face. She stared right back, unyielding.

\-------

Richie had lied. Oh, he had lied, alright. He loved Stan’s pullovers and slacks and well, everything about him. And he was scared of his own feelings. This time around, just like all those other times, he wanted to take whatever he would get. But it was best leaving before he was the one who was left.

\-------

Stan sat down beside Richie on the sofa. He knew something was off before he even opened his mouth, but he went on anyway.

“You’re not talking much tonight.”, he pointed out, putting his cup down on the little side table to his left.

“Nope, didn’t feel like it.”, Richie offered him a small smile. “One might say, I’m a bit speechless.”

“Of what?”

“Why, of you!”, Richie poked at his chest lightly and leaned in, slinging one arm around Stan’s shoulders. “Never seen such a pretty boy in my life.”

Stan laughed uncertainly, taking note of the way Eddie was now watching them with a weird look on his face.

“So…”, the hand of the arm around his shoulders trailed down his back. “A little bird whispered in my ear that you like me, is that true?”

An eerie feeling of deja-vu flashed inside Stan when he heard the same wording Mike had used almost two months back, when they went to the party after the nose incident. The nose was all healed now, of course, but the moments of his days when he thought of Richie had increased a hundredfold. Stan was almost positive this was how it felt being in love.

Richie’s wandering hand crept under the edge of Stan’s shirt and goosebumps spread on his skin, a shiver making its way up his spine. He never replied to Richie’s question, but he figured his silence was telling enough.

\-------

Richie wasn’t sure how much he’d had to drink tonight. He had refilled his mug so many times he couldn’t count them anymore. Stan had come to talk to him. _Stupid, nice Stanley…_ Beverly’s words echoed in his mind, but his own thoughts were louder. Stan was talking about birds again. He did that a lot, Richie figured it must be a big interest of his. He didn’t really care, so he didn’t bother actually listening to him. The art of humming and aahing in all the right places was a skill he’d mastered long ago. He busied himself with watching Stan’s face instead, the alcohol induced flush on his face leaving his cheeks rosy and his eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Music suddenly blared from the speakers and Stan fell silent, looking over his shoulder only to see Bill and Eddie grinding on each other and Beverly cheering them on, dancing on her own.

“Want to go outside for a moment?”, Richie asked, already pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Stan nodded, following him out on the balcony.

Richie lit his cigarette, looking back inside through the window for a second.

“So they're busy.”, he turned to Stan and grinned. “How about we get busy too?”

“With what?”, Stan asked, eyes narrowing.

“This.”, Richie's arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close and pressing their lips together.

Stan was frozen for a moment before excitement kicked in and he kissed back earnestly. One hand tangled in Richie's hair and the other grasped at his upper arm, almost moaning at the feeling of it all.

“So you do like me.”, Richie laughed against his mouth, tossing his forgotten cigarette over the railing around the balcony. “That's great, because I like you too.”

Stan was too stupefied to answer, but his friends pleads to be careful penetrated his hazy mind for a moment. He pushed the thoughts away, suddenly angry with Mike and Eddie. He was fully capable of taking care of himself and Richie was nice, wasn't he?

Stan gasped as Richie’s lips pressed against his neck. Heat spread in the pit of his belly like molten gold and he yearned for more of that sweet touch. One of his hands grabbed Richie’s hair again and pulled him back up, kissing him roughly.

“When did you get those damn jeans?”, Richie asked, hands sliding over thin hips. “Don’t answer that, I don’t care. I just want you to know you look so, _so_ good.”

Stan let out a breathless laugh. His face felt hot, and he figured he was probably blushing. He didn’t have time to care though, as Richie swooped back in and reclaimed his mouth once more.

“Want to take this elsewhere?”, Richie whispered against his mouth, barely audible above the loud music still booming through the halfway open door.

“Y-Yeah…”, his voice trembled but he was so sure that this was all he wished for.

The walk back to Richie's apartment was short and when Richie finally pushed Stan back to lie down on a rather soft bed his knees were shaking and his hands fluttered around Richie’s body, unsure where to land his touch.

“Richie.”, he said finally, pushing him back slightly with his hands on his chest.

“Hmm?”, Richie lingered, licking along his collarbone.

“Just... stop for a second.”

“Is something wrong?”, Richie moved back, looking at him carefully.

“I just… I need to tell you something before we go on. If you even want to go on…”, Stan bit his lip and turned his eyes away.

“What? Please don’t tell me you have an STD.”, Richie whined.

“No! _No_. That’s not it.”

“Are you sure? I’m clean and I do not want to catch anything.”

“I’m sure. Completely sure. Because I haven’t done this with anyone before. All the way. Like properly. Just... some parts of it.”, Stan rambled.

Richie stared for a couple of long, awkward seconds. Stan cringed, starting to crawl out from underneath the other boy, shame hot on his face. He was stopped by a strong hand gripping his arm.

“You’ve never actually had sex.”, Richie said. It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“You don’t have to rub it in my face. Let me go.”

“You wanted to do this with me?”, this time it was a question. Stan looked up at Richie’s face and was surprised at the wonder he saw there.

“I… Yes?”

Richie leaned down and kissed him again gently. “I feel honoured.”

“Really?”, it was Stan’s time to stare at the other boy with wonder. “Just… be careful with me.”

“Of course. Just tell me if you want to stop.”

Stan never told him to stop, because he didn’t feel the need to. When the molten heat in his stomach exploded in fireworks he was sure he was truly in love with Richie, and he wished he’d never have to face a reality without him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao the more I write of this the more I realise I have given Stan about as much character depth as a mozzarella stick. Oh well. I'm having fun so I guess it's not all that bad.


End file.
